Gollum's Song
by Darth Furby
Summary: A songfic using the lyrics from song of same name from LoTR. Super dark Harry angsty stuff in here, not for the kiddies...


A/N: Yes, I am more than aware of just how unbelievably odd of a story concept this is. A Harry Potter songfic to "Gollum's Song". o_O I have out weirded myself in fictionland this time. Whee. But I do hope that no one think I'd be stupid enough to do this if it didn't make any sense. It does, I swear it does. But it's a twisted kind of sense, so this is not a fic for those who think of Harry as a happy kind of person. Because he's sure as hell not happy here. =\ Apologies to all who think it disturbed to write him as a twisted youth. With that said, this takes place, uhm, I guess sometime around his sixth year- before, during, after- somewhere in there...

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, Lord of the Rings, any music from either, or the any of the people involved therein (damn! I've got, like, a list of people I wanna own....).

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[_Where once was light_

_Now darkness falls_

_Where once was love_

_Love is no more_

_Don't say goodbye_

_Don't say I didn't try_]

He used to think there was hope, that they would all, somehow, come out of this to find a future much brighter than the past they had left behind. He had been wrong. Where his hope had once been, there was now nothing more than a numb sort of anger. He had always trusted that at least there would always be that one person waiting for him, one person who truly cared and would never leave him. But even they had left; even if not by choice, they were still lost to him. There hadn't been a goodbye; Harry felt it was better that way. Sirius hadn't had the chance to say it, and Harry knew that to say goodbye, to let go of Sirius was to truly never see him again. He had tried, at one time, but had since become opposed to any sort of formal farewell.

[_These tears we cry_

_Are falling rain_

_For all the lies you told us_

_The hurt the blame_

_And we will weep to be so alone_

_We are lost we can never go home_]

He hadn't wanted to cry, either. It accomplished nothing, and had long since ceased to ease the pain. There was too much pain for him to simply quell it with tears. Too much of what he had been told, and alternately not been told, felt like deception. To be kept so in the dark by those who thought they knew better, and to be told he had never been at fault. He could no longer be convinced of his innocence. Sirius had died because of him. Not because Harry hadn't be able to save Sirius, but because Sirius had been trying to save him. It had been Harry's fault he'd need saving in the first place; he had acted rashly, throwing both himself and others into a trap, into the hands of those who wished for nothing more than their deaths. Because he had behaved so foolishly, he had lost the one person who mattered most to him. He was left feeling isolated, his only company his sorrow. He felt there was little left to live for. He had only gone on this long because he knew that someday he would be where he belonged; with Sirius gone, he wasn't sure where that was anymore.

[_So in the end_

_I'll be what I will be_

_No loyal friend..._

_was ever there for me_]

The only thing he was sure of anymore was that he was marked, chosen. Chosen to murder or be murdered. It wasn't something he'd wished for; he was sure that the full meaning of the path that lay ahead of him had yet to sink in completely. He knew what he must do, though he didn't fully understand it. He could barely come to grips with the loss of Sirius; how would he ever be able to fully understand his fate? It was so entrenched in meaning, not just to him, but to so many others as well. He might have been able to understand it had he not been dealing with the loss of Sirius. Had Sirius still been there, he would be able to shoulder a bit of the burden; enough at least for Harry to clear his mind. But Sirius wasn't there to share Harry's burden, and it seemed to him that no one else wanted to. At least not sincerely.

[_Now we say goodbye_

_We says "you didn't try"]_

Which was why he found himself where he was, found himself so disconnected from those with which he had once been close. At least, it had seemed that way, that they had shared so much. Now... Now everything in his world seemed blurred; no longer could he see the lines drawn in the sand between those who wished to help him and those who wished him harm. The words of sympathy, and affirmations of hope and courage towards him now seemed empty, meaningless. He no longer knew when what was said was meant. It seemed to him that it was far too easy to speak of such things when the duty of going to battle wasn't yours.

[_These tears you cry_

_Have come too late_

_Take back the lies_

_The hurt the blame_]

And so, he stood before his fate, engulfed in the misty haze of intertwined deceit reality; each step he took brought him closer to his goal, every breath closer to his last. No, they would not like his choice- after all, they believed it not to his own, but theirs; for theirs were the lives on which his decision hinged. But then, if it had been salvation they had wanted, they might have recognized the truth of the choice being his. But now, as the time for action drew nigh, as he came ever closer to the end, he felt a sense of satisfaction in the fact that would feel safe only until realizing that the very thin they had been counting on backfired. And then... then it would be too late. Too late to pull a victory from the ashes of defeat; for the ashes would be long blown away by a wind far greater than they. And then they would have back everything they had given to him; the pain, and the oppression he had always felt, though rarely shared. They might finally feel the weight of responsibility for the war that was at hand. It was never really his; he would not claim what he had never wanted to begin with.

[_And you will weep..._

_when you face the end alone_

_You are lost you can never go home_]

They would have their war, but they would not be using him to win it. He was leaving them to fight their own battles, battles that their ancestors had begun centuries before. They would find themselves thrown into the place where Harry's heart stood now, lost in a darkness that would not fall. Yes, he thought, as the eyes of his defeat met his own, yes, this is how it must end. He stood, ensnared by snake's eyes as a wand beckoned him nearer, nearer to his end. Softly, the words were spoken; his world became a haze of blinding green. It was warm, much warmer than he'd thought; he'd always thought of death as being cold, like a wave of ice through the body. This, he knew, was what he wanted, what he needed. What he deserved. And those who had followed him, to the end and now over the edge, were now where they should be too.

[_You are lost you can never go home_]

They would now know what it was to be lost, truly lost. To no longer know what to call home. They must wander now, consumed by loss, by guilt.


End file.
